


i would love to (pay for you)

by orphan_account



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M, sugar daddy/sugar baby fic uwu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15085289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: he said, "you won't need a real job."





	i would love to (pay for you)

**Author's Note:**

> U GOTTA PLAY PAY FOR YOU BY SKIZZY MARS FT. G-EAZY WHILE READING ITS THE ONLY WAY

yanchen grabbed a fistful of zhengting's hair and pushed his head forward—inches, inches forward. zhengting mewled around the cock in his mouth, trying to swallow hard through choking sounds. throat sore, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. he shut them tight to force the tears down, so he'd look prettier when he looked up at yanchen to blink, as if to say please, please enough, please i can't.

but he buried his nails into yanchen's thighs instead of pinching the back of his knee, and that was how yanchen knew that he should press zhengting's head forward—more, more, more.

without warning, yanchen pulled out of his mouth; leaving zhengting breathless, empty, mouth dripping with saliva and precum.

"say please."

"... _daddy_ , please..."

 

_ **who's this pretty blonde chick taking bong rips?** _  
_ **(we partied hard last night, i'm fucking exhausted)** _

 

they had been looking at each other all night. stealing glances through smoke, sending smiles through sugar-lips and alcohol. at least, yanchen thought so; but, zhengting had a different boy on his arm everytime yanchen saw him.

of course, back then, yanchen didn't know his name yet. didn't know how his lips tasted yet, didn't know how much he loved to love yet. back then, _zhengting_  was just a pretty blonde boy in an expensive white shirt and a sparkly jacket. he was just another set of limbs, just another unforgettable face.

just another drunk body threatening to spill into traffic. 

"hey, careful!" yanchen shouted, hand around zhengting's wrist, pulling him back from a busy street. and zhengting, wrecked and pretty and out-of-his mind, practically stumbling into yanchen's arms and falling all over him.

zhengting only chuckled, something white on his nose, something red on his lips. yanchen wasn't nearly drunk enough not to figure him out.

"you trying to call a cab?" yanchen asked impulsively, belatedly realizing how dumb it was trying to start a conversation with someone like him.

so, he hailed a cab and herded zhengting in; hand on top of his head and arm around his body so he wouldn't fall over and chip off his skull.

"songjiang, please—"

zhengting coughed loudly, vigorously shaking his head and saying, "zhen'an square." he swallowed thickly and pushed himself upright, hand on yanchen's thigh. pausing as if he was only then realizing that he wasn't alone. yanchen watched zhengting's emotions play across his face like a movie, eyes tracing the line from his hand to yanchen's face. pausing at his waist, at his neck. (at least, yanchen pretended that zhengting was looking at his _waist_.)

zhengting narrowed his eyes at yanchen. "you're not kunkun," he said suspiciously, voice like a baby. in the next second: eyes widening, hand over his mouth. yanchen thought quickly and pulled his backpack off of his lap. and as zhengting vomited all over his valuables, he thought to himself that maybe he should have listened to xingjie and left his bag at home.

the taxi stopped at a neighborhood far too unfamiliar and far too expensive. but as zhengting stumbled out of the car, he looked like he belonged nowhere else.

yanchen was quick to catch his swaying body, and zhengting was just as quick to anchor himself onto the stranger he was with. "mm," he giggled, "you're strong."

"you're drunk," yanchen replied. zhengting laughed.

"can we sit down there, please. just a sec," zhengting coughed, pointing to a cement planter box a few feet away. 

yanchen set his body down and looked away as zhengting threw up more of himself. and after, he watched as zhengting messily wiped the back of his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. gently, with a neatly-folded handkerchief always tucked away in his back pocket, yanchen wiped zhengting's mouth clean.

zhengting paused again, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. and yanchen couldn't figure out how someone could look that good _that_ wrecked.

"hey!" a voice came from the distance. yanchen turned around to see an angry-looking boy stomping towards them.

"what the hell?" the angry boy, all big lips and bigger eyes and fluffy brown hair, shoved yanchen away and picked up zhengting by the arms.

"kunkun!" zhengting squealed in delight, planting a fat, wet kiss against the boy's cheek.

"trying to take advantage of my drunk friend? nice try," the boy spat, narrowing his eyes at yanchen accusingly.

yanchen was all but ready to argue when zhengting tugged on the angry boy's shirt and said, "no, no, kunkun," he pouted, practically clawing at the boy's shirt, "he helped me. he's so strong and he helped me." zhengting smiled, turning to yanchen. "come with us. there's a party up there. i threw up in your bag, let me do this for you."

and yanchen didn't know what a party meant, or where. but somewhere between "did he really help you, zhengzheng?" and "he did! he did! i even vomited in his bag, you can look!", he let himself get dragged to the top floor of a skyscraper. to dim lights and slow beats, and a scene completely different from the club they were in just minutes ago.

it was hard to wrap his head around the idea that it had only been minutes since he met zhengting, not days, nor weeks, months, or years. as he sipped on something smooth and held a joint he wasn't going to smoke between his fingers, he started feeling as if the night was going to stretch on forever. as if the room they were in was going to become a kind of permanent, endless happiness, a kind of perpetual joy.

zhengting tossed yanchen's bag into the washing machine with a few glasses of whiskey, and yanchen drank the fireballs pushed towards him to forget the headache of getting new id's and credit cards.

the next thing he knew, it was morning. daylight was streaming in through the blinds, the sky a bright blue. where did the night go? he wondered to himself as he came to, thoroughly confused, hangover already pounding although he still felt entirely intoxicated. he blinked his eyes a few more times, just until he could stop looking for a dark sky. up above him, the lights were still turned on. all around him were people he didn't know, passed out on surfaces that weren't made for sleeping.

he was all alone on the couch, and on the table was a glass of water fizzing with something for a headache, and a note: 

> **you're handsome. car waiting downstairs. go anywhere but call only me. xxx**

sure as day, there was a black car with a driver waiting for him in front of the building.

"mister zhu sent this car for you. he said you'll know him as 'zhengting, the boy who vomited in your bag.' i've been told to take you anywhere you want to go, and to give you this phone."

feeling strange but entirely too tired for a one hour bus ride, yanchen told the driver his address and took the phone. already displayed on screen was the same number that was on the note from before, waiting to be called.

"what's your name?" came zhengting's greeting.

"uh," yanchen blinked his eyes, pressed his dry lips together. "yanchen," he answered, entirely unsure if telling a complete stranger his name was the smartest thing to do.

"cute," zhengting said. "thanks for last night. i want to see you again." yanchen heard him chuckle. "i 'gotta go now, but text me with your number. take care!"

zhengting hung up, and yanchen didn't know why he did exactly as he was told.

 

_ **tennis lessons, i wonder what those lacoste(d)** _

 

"thanks for waiting," zhengting greeted by way of hello's, dabbing a white towel against his forehead, pulling off his green headband and messing his brown hair up. it had barely been a week since they last saw each other, but zhengting already had a fresh new head of hair. meanwhile, yanchen had walked into overgrown, shaggy territory.

not that _that_ was the biggest revelation of the day. although it shouldn't have, the expensive, exclusive tennis club that zhengting had told yanchen to meet him at took him completely by surprise. 

zhengting looked at him for a moment, lips breaking into a little smile. he reached a hand out and ruffled yanchen's hair. "your hair's getting shaggy," he commented, hiking his gym bag over his shoulder and taking yanchen's hand. dragging him out into the parking lot, to a shiny white mercedes that beeped awake at his command.

zhengting shoved his bag and his racket inside, pulling off his white-and-green lacoste polo shirt to change into something else. 

he slipped into the driver's seat and put his oversized, diamond-encrusted gucci sunglasses on. "well, don't just stand there," he called as he closed the door.

 

_ **five racks on my outfit, that's an estimate** _

 

"you look. like. _royalty_ ," zhengting beamed, biting his lip in excitement. he stepped up onto the circular platform where yanchen stood to fix his tie.

and there yanchen stood, feeling absolutely ridiculous, both arms raised, pins tucked into his armani suit here and there. it was all too The-Emperor's-New-Clothes for him, but zhengting never did treat him like he was anything less.

"zhengting—"

zhengting shot him a look.

"baby," yanchen corrected himself, still not totally used to the pet names and the roleplaying. "this is... a little too much," he tried to say as gently as possible. "for me. i mean, it's an interview for a scholarship. i'm not receiving a nobel prize."

zhengting pouted, holding back the revelation that he had totally forgotten why they were even buying yanchen a suit in the first place. all he knew was that yanchen looked practically _regal_  in classic black armani, and he would look even ridiculously better with his hair styled. zhengting licked his fingers like a cat and tried to curl the hair in front of yanchen's face.

"they _should_ give you a nobel prize," zhengting said, "not everyone can have this handsome face."

he laughed when all yanchen did was stare back at him. zhengting kissed him, hopping off the platform so that the tailor could continue doing his job. 

"but fine, fine," he waved his hand, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, "if you want a class b calvin or whatever, we'll get you one too."

"zhengting." 

"... j.crew...?"

"zhengting."

zhengting threw his arms in the air. "you're killing me here, chenchen!!!" he sighed in exasperation before walking out.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a long one-shot with a plot but ?? it started rotting in my drafts & i liked it too much so......its gonna be zhengchen's sugar adventures with a loose-ish plot now. yeah. okay, yeah. i hope you liked it!!!! mwa (this was kunscandy, btw. i changed my username!)


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